Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 829: Chapter 200: Heir?

In the stands, wizards from various countries exchanged shocked glances, murmuring voices spread like ripples across the grandstand.

”Bloody hell! Could that be the Flame Curse?”

”It must be the tricks of those British Wizards, hiding their strength in the first two rounds, just waiting for the final lethal strike!”

”Winning depends on luck... Maybe our nation’s Champion will encounter the Goblet of Fire first. We can’t concede now!”

”That kid is only fourteen years old... such a level...”

”A hundred Galleons—I’m betting he’s Dumbledore’s secretly cultivated apprentice. You know, it’s not the ordinary teacher-student relationship, but the kind of ancient mentor lineage, taught one-on-one with great care...”

At the edge of the stand, a ”middle-aged wizard” who was originally smiling and looking relaxed heard the discussions and slowly put away his smile, releasing a cold snort from his nostrils.

”Sir.” The wizard seated beside him leaned closer, revealing Delaine’s furrowed brow under his cloak: ”Will this lead people to guess... about his relationship with us?”

The ”middle-aged wizard” sneered: ”Let them guess. I want to see—if they guessed right... what can they do?”

Sunlight cast bizarre shadows on the sharply defined contours of his profile.

On the other side, Antoine laughed softly: ”I think, when the truth is shocking enough, people will fabricate more reasonable lies to explain it.”

”Otherwise...”

His gaze flowed, his voice thick with laughter:

”They might wonder whether the greatest Dark Wizard and White Wizard of the current era have joined forces again after a hundred years...”

Hearing his cheeky and audacious words, Delaine’s eyes widened in shock, his expression clearing up considerably.

He stole a glance at the ”middle-aged wizard,” only to find his leader, though stern-faced, wasn’t actually angry, even with a faint, elusive smile at the corner of his mouth.

Delaine silently pondered.

And similarly hearing the murmurs, Minister of Ministry of Magic Fudge sat at the judges’ stand, the edge of his round top hat soaked with a circle of cold sweat.

”Merlin’s beard...”

Fudge’s lips trembled, his voice squeezing out like steam from a teapot, his mind flashing countless terrifying scenes.

In the past, Fudge clearly knew that Dumbledore had no intention of becoming Minister of Ministry of Magic, but when he thought the old headmaster was interfering with his position, his heart filled with resentment, and several times he considered ruining Dumbledore’s reputation.

But as he realized that Dumbledore seemed to have different ideas about power now, Fudge’s eager claws immediately retracted, replaced by a chilling cold that crept forth.

It felt like sitting comfortably on a high-backed chair enjoying lunch, with a monstrous beast using its crimson eyes to ominously stare at his back in the darkness.

When the Minister of Magic of France leaned over and tentatively said, ”You British young wizards are truly impressive,” Fudge feigned a smile as if hit by a Petrification Spell.

He watched the scene on the big screen, where the spider’s corpse scattered in the wind, shuddering with fear.

It was like realizing for the first time—if students taught by Dumbledore are of this calibre, then what exactly can Dumbledore himself achieve?

Perhaps it’s time to resign from the position of Minister of Ministry of Magic...

This thought suddenly became clear in his mind, causing Fudge to hiccup in shock, surging with strong reluctance and resentment.

He fumblingly reached into his pocket, attempting to grab a piece of chocolate to calm his nerves, when Umbridge leaned over with her sugary voice:

”Minister, don’t you think there’s a significant issue with Hogwarts’ educational approach? Maybe Ministry of Magic needs... to provide some special guidance... and restraint.”

She knew precisely what advice her superior wanted to hear, and since Umbridge’s magic level was rather mediocre, she wasn’t as aware as some powerful wizards of what the Flame Curse signified.

In her mind, the strongest in the world was always the high-up authority.

But Fudge could no longer listen, feebly saying to the young person behind him, ”I need... I need a cup of hot cocoa...”

Sitting behind the Minister, Percy Weasley stared blankly at the scene, his mind frantically recalling every book he had read to think about how the Flame Curse could be improved to become so powerful.

When Fudge’s trembling voice reached him, Percy hesitated for two seconds, then his body reacted faster than his mind, popping up from his seat instantly.

”Alright, Minister! I’ll prepare it right away!”

Percy said hurriedly, bowing, and quickly jogged off the podium.

Dumbledore only then withdrew his gaze from the Flow Mirror, ignoring those voices of questioning or testing, his eyes followed Percy’s hasty silhouette, observing this former top student of the school, a silent sigh emitting from his heart, unheard by anyone.

He didn’t think Percy’s yearning for power was wrong—who in youth hasn’t yearned for the power to change the world?

But power is like a hungry Dementor; without restraint, there is never enough. It will gnaw at the soul piece by piece until the person becomes unrecognizable.

The scene of the young man, trembling with excitement, bowing respectfully, offering hot cocoa to Fudge, no longer carried the bright-eyed, erect figure, or proud demeanor of the past?

...

”Crunch.”

Vid stepped on the charred fallen leaves, a subtle brittle sound echoed beneath his feet.

The residual warmth of the Flame Curse still surrounded the area, occasionally sparking faint sparks, but the Forbidden Forest fell into an eerie silence, even the faint rustling vanished.

It felt as if all dangers had, in an instant, distanced themselves from him.

Vid waited a few seconds before taking out a compass to calibrate direction, continuing to move forward.

The compass pointed straight towards the location of the Goblet of Fire, but progressing through the forest was extremely difficult, with the path frequently blocked by enormous trees, sometimes encountering swamps or pits.

Vid glanced at the nearby bluebird, sighed.

If transforming into a Peregrine Falcon, the trophy would surely be in his hands already... But for a mere competition, revealing his Animagus identity wasn’t necessary.

The forest seemed isolated from the outside world; twice Vid used Summoning Charm to summon the Flying Broomstick, but received no response, which instead relieved him—

When it came to flying, Harry and Krum were far better than him. Unable to rely on a broom to fly to the finish line was advantageous for Vid.

After thinking for a moment, he left the main path and found a secluded spot to stop, then waved his magic wand, and a halo of the spell rippled like water waves.

In an instant, this area seemed injected with life, countless materials began to squirm, tremble!

Moss rustled off tree trunks, thorny vines danced nimbly, unicorn tail hairs hidden among dead leaves flew up, feathers of some unknown bird swayed gathering, mushrooms on the ground sprayed spore clouds while moving, insect shells and gravels began rolling with a rumble.

On the stand, someone loudly exclaimed—

”He’s making poppets again! This is unfair!”